


Retrieval

by kabrox18



Series: IMBD [1]
Category: Crysis Series (Video Games), Red vs. Blue
Genre: HAH gaayyy, IMBD AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 22:29:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8031430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kabrox18/pseuds/kabrox18
Summary: the beginning of a long, winding tale between three men.





	Retrieval

**Author's Note:**

> uh tell me if it's bad

The radio at his bedside continued to chatter as he cooked quietly. It was tuned into a military channel, people talking back and forth on it. He’d turned to it just a moment ago; the context of the conversation was missing, so he couldn’t quite understand what was going on. He heard mentions of an island, but didn’t pay it much mind overall. After a bit he was finished cooking and went to eat at his little table, listening into the radio as he slowly ate the vegetables he’d put together for himself. There was a mention of Korean fishing boats, and that pulled his interest. The channel was in English; judging by the two accents, one person was from the northeastern US, and the other from the west coast. What would American forces be doing all the way out here by Korea? The Ceph were gone and thanks to his little radio he’d learned of the united government sprouting from the ashes of CELL and the previous world powers. It wasn’t war, or any more aliens, clearly. So what were they doing out in the middle of the Pacific? He looked over to the machine curiously; the signal fuzzed briefly during the mention of their target, but it cleared up when the west coaster said the two words he’d been praying he’d never have to hear.

“Ling Shan, right there. We’re in visual range now. ETA 15 minutes.” The old soldier leaned back in his seat, looking down at his food dully. The fact that people were coming to his island killed his already faded appetite, and he stood, going to peek out his one lonely window. He didn’t see anything but the pale, lovely beach he was living on, and the crisp line of blue that stretched out for miles in every direction. He had probably 10 minutes to prepare, and thought for a moment about the best course of action. He decided to just hide in his little home and hope they wouldn’t try to drag him out. He closed his curtains, shutting the door and turning off the bare bulb he had hanging. He heard the characteristic  _ whap-whap-whap  _ of helicopter rotors, the sound descending and eventually slowing to a stop as the vehicle came to rest on the beach. The radio on his nightstand buzzed, the people reporting on his mini hydroelectric station made of scrap and materials on the island left from the 2020 incursion. He turned it off, feeling a bit sick at the thought of people taking him away from his beloved home. Footsteps in the sand grew closer to his tiny one-room shack and he laid down, hiding under his thin blanket and wishing they’d leave him be. He didn’t want anything, he liked the solitude of his little island. Nobody else owned it anymore, so he’d claimed it, placing markers over sites he felt were important. It was his home, and he’d cultivated the life here, planting new trees where the ice sphere and nuke had both destroyed a good portion of the life on the island. Why would they take him away from all his work and love? His thoughts were interrupted by his door opening after a few knocks. That made him a little angry, and he cloaked, slipping out of bed as they looked through his cramped kitchen.

“This food is all fresh. He’s been here in the last twenty minutes, tops.” One said, straightening after looking at his plate. The other turned.

“This is a weird question, but do you feel like we’re being watched?” The first one paused, seeming to think about it as he went to look around more.

“It’s possible he’s still here. Best case scenario, he chases us off the island. It’s happened before, you know. The Koreans seem to think the island should be theirs again, and he disagrees. The guy took out a whole alien army and then some. Honestly, if I were in charge, I’d leave well enough alone. But I’m not, and we get stuck trying to bring back probably the deadliest sonuvabitch in human history. I don’t like being here. I’d rather be at home with my boyfriend, instead of trying to get Prophet to  _ socialize _ .” The other soldier nodded in agreement and Prophet watched them silently. If they were here against their will, that made the situation different. He decided to decloak, startling both of them. They looked to each other, seeming uncomfortable now.

“Uh, hey Prophet-”

“Laurence.” He interrupted, standing a little straighter and eying them.

“Sorry, Laurence. We’re, well, we’re actually here to talk to you a little.”

“I heard.” He crossed his arms, frowning a little. He noted how they both seemed more nervous when he did.

“Yeah. Uh, you’re actually supposed to go on trial. Started a chain reaction with space crap out in orbit. We were able to dispose of it all and clean everything up, but… Yeah.” Both troopers looked to each other and nodded.

“And if I don’t come with you?”

“Military force is authorized, if you don’t play nice. They aren’t taking risks with you. So, please just come with us… This poor island’s seen enough military time as is.” The supersoldier mulled it over, sharp blue eyes going down to the ground.

“Fine. But I want to bring a few things.”

“Alright, take all the time you need. We’ll wait outside for you.” The two left, and Prophet sat on his little bed for a moment. He thought deeply for a while before taking an old photo, folding it up and tucking it away before heading out. They were sitting in the open bay of the chopper, eating and chatting. One saw him come out and elbowed the other, the two packing up their food and getting ready to take Laurence off the island he’d called home for years. He sat where he was told, hanging on as the vehicle lifted off, leaving his quiet little home behind.

\------

They’d cuffed him to the table, a fancy device clamped uncomfortably around his neck that kept the suit drained, leaving him no stronger or faster than the average man. He tugged at the cuffs for the umpteenth time, hating the feeling of being trapped like this. The accursed thing around his neck also forced him to remain in the suit’s shape instead of his normal human form. He glowered at the person next to him, who was supposed to be “helping” him. It seemed like everyone was against him, and some were going to extremes. Violent, skinning-based execution or slow, torturous death in orbit were two things he heard. Some offered just plain prison time, but that was deemed too little punishment for this “global threat” he’d caused. Of  course, causing this had occurred during the process of ending the other global threat, that damned Ceph warship. He let a snarl bubble out, the room going quiet at the low sound.

“Have something to say, Prophet? Or are you just going to make inhuman noises at us?” The pencil-thin man accusing him of this ordeal smirked and Laurence wanted to gut him in the messiest ways possible.

“Laurence.”

“What was that?”

“My name, is Laurence. Prophet died in orbit.” A few people seemed worried or confused that they’d caught the wrong soldier, but the scrawny man snapped to them.

“Idiots! Laurence Barnes and Prophet are the same person!” Laurence tried to stand and lunge at him but was stopped by the cuffs, making him let out another angry sound. The man next to him pressed a button on the remote for the collar and everyone flinched at the agonized howl the electrocution ripped from him. He slumped back down into his seat, defeated by the pain. A couple people up in the jury started whispering and murmuring to one another, more joining as minutes passed. He was in a hazy state, and didn’t hear how they were talking about prison time just to let him recover from this, instead of inflicting any more punishment. He hunched, hiding his head as much as he could manage, wanting this to be over. He didn’t even try to stop the weak little whimper that his throat made, more people in the jury agreeing when they heard the sound.

“He doesn’t deserve to die. What about one of those prison ships developed by the colonies we lost contact with during the Ceph incursions?”

“It could work,” the judge nodded, her empathy going out to the suited man, “If needed, he could go places to work off some of the jail time, and when it’s done, he could come back and resume living peacefully on Ling Shan. Already, there’s been word of the government starting to work out an agreement over the island with the Koreans.” There was protest from the bony man, but he was out-voted all to one.

“It’s decided then. The entity known as Laurence Barnes will be placed into custody on a prison ship for an allotted time, then released when he has completed his sentence. This court is hereby dismissed.” Laurence’s cuffs were disconnected from the table and he was led out by a kind-looking policewoman. He was thankful for her gentle grasp and soft words.

“Thank you…” She seemed surprised but smiled gently to him.

“You’re welcome.”

\------

The prison ship wasn’t that bad. It was clean and orderly, meals were healthy and entertainment was plenty. He kept to himself, and avoided any other people like they had the plague. Even the wardens seemed to sympathize with his plight and left him alone. He stayed in his cell, even when offers to allow him out for a little exercise or recreation were made. At one point, he was transferred to a different ship due to “issues” in getting him to socialize. This new one was smaller but equally as comfortable, provisions-wise.They still tried to draw him out of his cell, even offering to leave him alone if he did. Still, he refused. He could feel the Ceph influence in him and he wanted to keep it far away from others; touches, bumps, any sort of contact could infect them with malignant nanobots. There was a rather humorous scene (rather, humorous to the other prisoners) in which a warden tried to open his cell door and let him out, becoming frustrated as he kept closing it, shaking his head and refusing to exit the cell.

One day the ship was stiflingly quiet. Everyone had left to get lunch at the usual time but nobody had come back, not even the usual person who gave Laurence food. He stayed in the back corner, laying in his bed and facing the wall as was typical these days. There were heavy footsteps and they stopped at his cell, keys clattering along before the characteristic sound of the door unlocking and opening resounded. The sound echoed around the empty hall and the footsteps came in, Laurence curling up slightly. He tugged the blanket over himself and mumbled how he wasn’t going to come out, bribery or not. A low voice Laurence didn’t recognize met his ears instead of the warden’s lazy drawl.

“I’m not going to bribe you. Either you come out, or I’m going to space you.” Laurence rolled out of bed, looking to the being. Whoever they were, they had a rather insectoid helmet Laurence couldn’t read. Their armor was black, but had lines and accents of a rich forest green. He made a vague noise before walking out of the cell, avoiding looking at the person any more. The reaction was automatic, his hands went behind his back and folded, ready for cuffs. The collar was still around his neck, but was due to come off when he was released. The person watched him, seeming intrigued by the movements.

“What are you doing?”

“You aren’t going to cuff me?”

“No. Why would I do that?” Laurence was silent for a long time, trying to peel an answer out of his dulled brain.

“Because I’m a prisoner.” The person gently took his wrists, holding them up and examining them. There were faint grooves in the suit, where the cuffs had been placed for almost four years now. Laurence didn’t meet their gaze, pulling his hands away.

“Do you want to be cuffed?” They asked, tilting their head. “If you feel more comfortable that way, I’m willing to do it.”

“Why would you care anyway?”

“Because I want you to like me. We’re going to be working together now.” That caught the supersoldier off guard and he was silent again, the awkwardness becoming palpable.

“Please do.” He mumbled, putting his hands together, this time in the front. They looped the cuffs around his thick wrists, closing them up and testing them lightly. Laurence tried to not think about how the feeling soothed him, looking down as the person pat his shoulder.

“Alright. I’ll bring you to my partner so you can become acquainted, then we’ll move on.” They turned and walked, Laurence following them silently. They went into the control room of the ship, the supersoldier keeping his head down and lagging behind a bit. A different voice bubbled out when they entered the room, lighter and more friendly.

“So this is what the cat dragged in hmm? Beefy. He’s gonna make for a good sidekick, eh Locs?”

“Don’t call me that.” Laurence stayed silent, pretending to be very interested in the way his feet looked.

“Aww, poor thing’s shy. What a shame. Maybe not a  _ good  _ sidekick. Guess he’ll have to settle for being mediocre, won’t he?” A hand touched his metal cheek, then slid down and pulled his head up, forcing him to meet the gaze of a grinning face, black hair styled spiky and wild. There were too-white teeth showing through the uncomfortably wide grin, piercings poking out here and there through the tanned skin.

“Name’s Felix. That lame bug over there is Locus.” Felix jerked a thumb over his shoulder, motioning to the black and green armored being who was looming like a shadow in the corner.

“Your name wasn’t in your file, big boy. Mind introducing yourself?” Felix purred, petting his cheek more with a leathery, gloved hand. Locus leaned forward slightly, Felix turning to the tall figure.

“He isn’t the talkative type, Felix. I was lucky to get anything out of him at all. I suggest we just leave him here to drift. Can’t break out of those cuffs anyway, or he would’ve done so already.”

“Leaving him here  _ would  _ be good punishment for not cooperating…” Felix smirked, looking back to the supersoldier for a reaction. He was back to staring at the ground, wanting to go back to his cell and sleep this off. Everyone would be back by the time he woke up, he knew it.

“Nothing. Hmm, he doesn’t seem to care at all. What a shame. He would’ve been fun to have around.” The orange and black armored person slapped his back heartily, leaning against him like they were old friends.

“You seemed to like him too, oh dear. Suppose you’ll just have to forget about him.”

“I didn’t care about him. You were the one who claimed you’d ride him into the sunset.” Finally, Laurence spoke up.

“I want to go back to my cell. I just want to sleep.” Felix seemed like he got caught a little off guard by that.

“Sleep? Go back to your cell? Buddy, listen. We’re busting you out, and you want to go back?”

“I want to finish my time so I can go home.” Felix quickly regained his composure and went to stand in front of Laurence again, grabbing his face with both hands.

“Well you’re talking now so you’re coming with us. And guess what?” He lifted Laurence’s hands, tugging on the cuffs.

“You can’t fucking stop us.”

\------

As it turned out, Locus and Felix were mercenaries. At least they seemed nicer than CELL mercs, in some odd way. Locus had taken a liking to Laurence, who was let out more and more as time went on. He was free to do whatever he pleased, so long as he kept the collar on. He’d grown accustomed to the feeling of it resting around his neck, and didn’t really mind it as much anymore. It still bothered him that he could only look human for a few brief minutes without hurting himself because of it, but he got used to the look and feeling of the suit again after a few months. He knew the two were conditioning him to cooperate with them more, but didn’t really care anyway. Some pirates were brought aboard with enough supplies to last them another year, and he ended up getting challenged by a couple to fight the both of them at the same time. Felix allowed it and turned down the dampening of the collar slightly, but on the condition Laurence would allow Locus to add on a small metal loop to it. He didn’t see why it was such a condition, until Felix put a tag on the loop that read “property of the mercs”. He hated the way it jingled when he moved, the sound making him feel like a pet or slave that they owned.

The fight came and Laurence won, naturally, sending both cocky pirates away with their tails between their legs. Felix wasn’t surprised and rewarded Laurence with those “cheap and tasteless” sweets the big man adored. He had taken the handful and ate only one, hiding the others in a little niche between two panels to save for later.

\------

Locus was away, and had been all day. The mercs had taken over the prison ship, turning it into a semi-permanent base of operations, which meant he’d come back. Laurence decided to poke around his room just out of pure curiosity, investigating the rather plain room. He sat on the bed slowly, revelling in the way the thick, luxurious mattress slowly sunk beneath him. He laid down, sprawling out and sighing deeply.

“Oh, that’s a new smell…” He sniffed around, rolling to bury his blunt metal snout in the sheets, inhaling the smell over and over. It was rich and smelled slightly of pine, with a strong metallic overtone. There was a hint of firearm lubricant, and a musky thick scent that nearly overpowered him. He shivered at the way it filled his sensitive nose, eagerly moving up to the pillows and snatching one, then rolling onto his back and holding it to his face. He breathed it in over and over, feeling like the smell had been waiting to be discovered. It ensnared him and in the brief few moments he’d known it, he’d already become completely infatuated with it. He arched a little, panting into the pillow and reaching to fumble with the metal codpiece that was restraining him in the most frustrating way. He gasped at the feeling of springing free, and his hand immediately wrapped around his shaft. He moaned into the pillow, breathing in more and working himself over in time with his hungry inhales. He heard footsteps but didn’t care at all, too enraptured by the musk and the feeling of getting off. He arched and let out a disgustingly lewd noise when he finally came, the heat filling him to the very brim. He panted and shivered at the feeling of his own sticky fluid smeared up along his gut, feeling like some kind of itch had finally been scratched. He removed the pillow after a few extra sniffs for good measure, freezing at the sight of Locus standing there and gawking at him. The two stared at each other in shock for a while, Laurence feeling like the afterglow had just been ripped from him by the little surprise.

“Sorry?”

\------

Laurence finally was allowed off the prison ship, and Felix had him posted with Locus despite the little incident they’d had with each other. It didn’t help with the growing tensions, and the other soldiers the two worked with started a betting pool on how long it would take for one to snap and fuck the other senseless.

Needless to say, it didn’t take long for their first make out to happen. It had been in the locker room after a fight, and Laurence had won, getting his first taste of Locus’s mouth. He loved the way the merc tasted, the way he felt, the way he sounded, even how he looked beaten and bruised. It had taken all of Laurence’s willpower to stop their first makeout from turning into their first fuck.

Some troopers were a little annoyed, but the betting pool continued and grew. Even some of the higher echelons were in on it, all of which made the undue sexual tension grow even faster. Laurence eventually got annoyed by it and added his own two cents, staking out a demand that whoever won the bet had to give half to either Locus or the supersoldier himself, depending on who fucked who. Of course they planned ahead. It wasn’t a matter of who pinned whom, it was more a matter of trying to figure out whether or not they’d actually pinned each other at all. Eventually it was called even, and the two were both a few hundred credits richer.

\------

Locus and Felix set their sights on another planet once the first one had more or less committed assisted suicide. Laurence was getting used to having all the money he did from his time with the mercenaries, and had started to spoil himself with all sorts of goodies. At first they were small; 5 credits for a couple bags of his favorite candy from  _ that  _ colony, 10 for some paper and a pencil to pass the time from  _ this  _ colony, and another 5 for more paper from  _ that  _ colony. Now, Felix, being the extravagant spender he was, wouldn’t stand for thrifty people aboard his ship. He took Laurence down to a colony with stores up and down all the streets.

“Business colony,” the spunky merc had told him, “they buy and sell anything you can think up with that computer brain of yours.”

“Can I have more paper? I’ve run out since we left that last colony.”

“You can have all the paper your metal ticker desires, robot boy.” Felix flicked him on the chest and dragged him to an art store that made Laurence want to keel over.

“It’s all so… Expensive.”

“That’s the point! There’s no taxes or anything, not really, so they have to make everything expensive to compensate. Besides, you’re rolling in credits. You can afford to waste a few.”

“But I can get perfectly fine paper for like 5 cred-” Felix cut him off, putting a finger to his mouth.

“I don’t think so, buster. I took you all the way down here. Humor me and buy some expensive paper.” Laurence sighed and walked through the store, looking around. Sure he had a lot of money, but the prices were just a little absurd. So, he messaged Locus telling him what was going on, then cloaked and snuck off to a smaller business, buying some nice paper for far cheaper there. Once they got back to the ship, Felix was  _ livid _ .

“I ONLY ASKED YOU TO HUMOR ME ONE TIME YOU SHITTY BIRD!” Laurence ignored him, doodling Locus’s armor. He jerked back when the page was yanked away by a furious Felix.

“This is my paper, now, bitch.” Laurence said nothing but his face went dark and he stood, looming over Felix. He didn’t even care if he got in trouble at this point. Felix was being unreasonable, and when reason failed for Laurence, his contingency was his heavy fists.

\------ 

Locus was not happy. While he’d been busy taking care of things and cleaning, Laurence had fought Felix. Of course Felix used the collar on him, but it didn’t matter. He was still bigger and heavier. Felix was now in the little infirmary, bandaged up and nursing his wounded pride. Laurence was sitting in front of him, staring down silently at the cuffs around his hands. It’d been a long time since he’d worn them, and he didn’t like the way they dug into his flesh without those grooves. He tugged on them and sighed, looking up to Locus finally. The merc was staring him down, and had his arms folded.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly, feeling a little hurt at the look Locus was giving him. They’d gone from just fucking each other for relief to more or less lovers. Locus leaned over the table, hooking fingers through the collar and pulling him up.

“Don’t do it again. Understood?”

Laurence swallowed the heat coiling in his belly at the feeling of Locus pulling on his collar, his scent coming so close, Laurence could smell it without being caught if he was  _ very careful _ -

“Laurence, are you trying to sniff me or are you actually listening?” The supersoldier jumped a bit and pouted, flinching at a flick to his nose.

“Brat.”

Well, at least Locus wasn’t angry anymore.


End file.
